After four hours of drawing, her back ached and her hand was tired. She needed a glass of wine and a long soak in the tub.
Tomorrow she’d have to take the photos of the dog and start on that portrait. The majority of the daughter portrait was done. She needed to do the hair and the background, but the hard part, which constituted the eyes and the light beam, was complete. Perhaps, this might be her finest piece to date.
She was soaking in the warm tub and had almost dozed off when the sound of glass shattering startled her. Adrenaline slammed into her body. She jumped out of the tub, careful not to slip. Her mind 122
raced. The door between the art studio and her apartment wasn’t locked. Shit. After tossing a towel around her body, she tiptoed into the bedroom, locked the door, and plastered her back against it. Her mind raced on what to do next. Call 911. She searched the room for her phone. Damn. She’d left it downstairs on the kitchen table. Fuck.
Her breath was lodged in her throat. She couldn’t wait for the intruder to find her. She had to get help. Her jeans and top were on the bed. She stepped into them, struggling to put them on over her wet body. If she had to fight or run, she needed to be wearing her boots.
Once dressed, she eased open the door and listened. Damn. She should have an alarm system installed. Why hadn’t she listened to her dad? Maybe because she didn’t own the property.
She forced her breath to slow. Maybe some kids had run by and tossed a rock through the plate-glass window. Or was someone still downstairs? If that person meant to harm her, why wasn’t he coming upstairs to get her?
She had to do something. Nothing in the bedroom looked like a weapon, but on the second-floor living room, there were plenty of metal pieces she could use to defend herself. Tiptoeing downstairs, she kept an eye on the door that led to the first-floor studio. The knob wasn’t moving, so the intruder wasn’t trying to get to her. Yet.
After taking a few big inhales, she charged over to the phone. Her 911 call was answered immediately.
“What’s the nature of the emergency?”
“Someone broke into my studio.” She gave the address.
“Is the intruder inside?”
She forced the tears to stay put. “I don’t know. I don’t want to go downstairs and see.”
“That’s good. Go find a safe place to hide. I’ve got dispatch on the way there.”
“Okay.” She grabbed a steel pipe that belonged to Jade and raced upstairs and hid in the bathroom. The bastard wasn’t going to get her.
A second after she locked the bathroom door, her stomach heaved,
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and she barely made it to the toilet. Once she started, she couldn’t stop until the dry heaves claimed her. Damn him.
After a minute of hearing nothing from the intruder, she dialed Morgan.
“Babe, what’s up?”
A sob erupted. “Someone broke into my place.”
“You okay?” The worry in his voice tore her up.
“Yes. The police are on their way.”
“So am I.” She could hear his footstep pounding on the floor and a door opening. “You still there?”
“Yes, but I need to hang up. I want to be able to hear the cops or the criminal if he comes up here.”
“Shit. Okay, but don’t confront the bastard.” She almost dropped the phone. Her fingers had turned numb.
“Okay.” Heart banging against her rib cage, she disconnected.
Now all she could do was wait and pray. Not only was she wet from the bath, but she was sweating profusely. Her pits smelled bad.
The shakes began in earnest as her stomach sickened.
Banging sounded downstairs. She stilled. Her tummy threatened to explode. Was it the cops or the intruder?
Given she’d called for help about four minutes ago, she bet it was the cops. She stepped out of the bathroom, unlocked her bedroom door, and peeked out. Muffled voices sounded downstairs. Light footsteps came up the stairs from the studio. Someone knocked.
“Dakota? It’s the police.”
Given it was a woman’s voice, she believed her. Dakota rushed downstairs and ran toward the front door. Too bad she didn’t have one of those eyepieces in the door. She opened up.
A woman in uniform was standing there holding up her badge.
“Are you okay?”
Her breath whooshed out. She nodded, unable to get out the words.
The woman entered. “I’m going to stay with you until we process the crime scene.”
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“Crime scene?”
The woman looked down for a moment. “The front window was smashed. There was damage done to some of the paintings.” Bile rushed up her throat and tinged her mouth. “Oh, God.” The mostly finished image of the dead woman flashed before her. She’d been proud of the way she’d captured the woman’s lovely eyes. “I need to see the damage.” She tried to get past the cop, but the woman stopped her.
“You need to let us do our job. Is there anyone you can call?”
“I called my boyfriend. He’ll be here shortly.”
“Good.”
She didn’t have to wait long. Shouting sounded downstairs. The policewoman told her to stay put and went to check it out. A few seconds later, Morgan bounded through the door.
He ran to her and lifted her off the seat. “Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.” Morgan dragged his hands down her face.
“I’m fine. He didn’t get up here. Do the police know anything?”
“No. Let’s hope the guy was careless. Maybe he left some prints.”
“How bad is it?”
Morgan gathered her in his arms. “I’m sorry.” More bile rushed up her throat. “I need to see.”
“You need to pack and come with me.”
She didn’t appreciate the authoritative way he said it. “I can’t leave here.” Even she could hear the irrational tone of her voice.
“He could come back.”
She didn’t want to be a victim. Victims were weak, and she wasn’t weak. “Let him. I’ll be ready.”
Morgan clasped a hand around her waist and led her to the stairs to the bedroom. “There’s no security here. We need to get the front window repaired and a security system installed.”
“I can’t afford one.”
“It’s Jade’s responsibility now. She’s the owner.” She hadn’t thought about her. “I have to call her.”
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“She can’t do anything about it tonight. Come on.” He opened her door and led her inside. “Where’s your suitcase?”
“In the closet.” She didn’t want to leave, but it would be stupid to stay. Shit.
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Chapter Thirteen
On the way out, she stepped near the workroom and tried to absorb the devastation. Glass shards littered the floor, and the main window was mostly gone. Her gaze swept the room to her easel. The picture she’d almost finished was slashed, along with a few others in the front room. Someone must have scared the intruder because he never made it to the back room.
Morgan wrapped an arm around her waist to prevent her from entering the taped-off area. “We have to go out the back.” Cops were spreading black fingerprint powder on every surface.
Tears brimmed her lashes. “I know.”
He turned her around and walked her to the rear. “I’ve called Clint.
He said he’s on his way back.”
Clint was in Casper. “He doesn’t have to come.” Though, she appreciated his willingness to drive back.
“Babe, your life was in danger. He’s going to want to see that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
It didn’t matter how many times she told him that, the violation wouldn’t stop beating at her. In truth, she wanted to cuddle with Clint.
Having both of her men would be the only way to help heal.
Still, the fact someone broke into her place cut her deep. “Who do you think did this?”
He shook his head as he
loaded her and the suitcase into the car.
As they pulled away, the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles shone behind them. Morgan must have sensed she was trying to cope and didn’t ask too many questions.
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He pulled in front of the house. “I’ve been wracking my brains as to who would want to sabotage your gallery. I can’t imagine you have any enemies.”
“I never thought I did.”
“We’ll let the police do their job. They’ll find the culprit.” She wished she were so certain. “Maybe Harley thinks I’m going to rat on him or that he’s upset that I’m working there. After all, the store is his domain, and I don’t think he was particularly happy that I came to work there.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see Harley for this. He has a hard time walking, let alone breaking into a storefront that sits next to the Intrigue Hotel. He isn’t capable of running away. I’m sure someone saw something. Don’t worry.” He got her inside the house. “You want something to eat?”
“No. I’m not hungry. What I need is a shower.” She lifted her arm and smelled. “I stink.”
Morgan wrapped his arms around her. “You never stink.”
“I do today.”
“Go take a shower, and I’ll have a glass of wine ready when you’re done.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Not only was she upset about the broken window and having to tell Jade that, due to no fault of her own, she’d have to replace it, but now she’d have to call the woman about her daughter’s painting. Recreating a piece of art never came out the same.
She peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower. The last time she’d been here, Clint had joined her. Even the thought of having sex didn’t appeal to her right now. The depression weighed heavily on her.
Why me? Had she turned down a piece of art that she thought unworthy? Maybe she hadn’t fussed over someone’s talent. Her brain wasn’t engaged enough to think. A migraine was brewing behind one of her eyes.
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She stepped under the warm water and expected her muscles to relax immediately. The tension refused to dissipate. She poured some bath gel onto her palm and scrubbed her body. No matter how much she rubbed, she couldn’t erase the stench of being a victim. She should be happy that no one had harmed her physically. While her body wasn’t harmed, mentally she was a mess.
As the hot water doused her body, she went through the last few weeks, trying to see if there was someone she could have possibly offended. Even after washing her hair and staying under the water so long that her skin pruned, she was no closer to an answer. She prayed the police could find a clue.
She stepped out and dried off. Her stomach was still upset.
Depression sucked. She trudged into Morgan’s bedroom and pawed through her suitcase for her toothbrush. The throw up in her mouth still lingered. Once she brushed her teeth and put cream on her face, she swallowed some pain medication to help drive away the threatening headache.
She searched her case for something to wear. Nothing appealed to her, so she ended up dragging on some undies and a big T-shirt.
When she walked into the living room Morgan was there with a glass of wine. She doubted even the slight buzz she’d get would do much good, but the nice taste would help.
“Come sit down.” Morgan made room for her on the sofa.
“I feel violated.”
He handed her the glass. “I know, but we’ll find out who did this.” She shook her head. “It won’t matter. The act was done.” She looked up at his kind face. “Did the cops call while I was in the shower?”
He lifted her chin with his knuckle. “No. They won’t be able to tell us anything until they have the person in custody. I called Travis already.”
“Who?”
“Travis is Mr. Security for D’Ink Coda. I told him Clint suggested
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I give him a call. He said he’d find someone to replace the windows ASAP. He wants to put in a state-of-the-art security system as well as cameras ringing the outside. I want to be sure this never happens again.”
“I appreciate that.” Too bad it couldn’t erase what had happened.
“Did you call Jade and tell her about the devastation?”
“I did. She’s very upset and asked if she could come right over. I told her you weren’t up for company.” He stroked her arm. “If you want her to come, I can call her back.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, but you were right. I’m not up for company. The breaking and entering has thrown me in a tailspin. I don’t think I’d have minded if they only broke the glass, but to cut up my paintings was like cutting me.” Morgan leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I wish there was something I could do.”
She sipped her wine. “It’s going to take time for me to process this.”
Without asking, he turned on the TV and handed her the remote.
“You get to choose.”
She didn’t really have the energy or desire to watch anything, but Morgan said Clint would be home any time now. Even if she went to bed, she was sure she wasn’t going to get a bit of sleep.
They watched a crime show because in the end the bad guy would get caught, and she wanted to see justice done. Close to midnight, Clint barged in.
“Darlin’, are you okay?” He leaned over and scooped her into his arms.
His warm, comforting chest eased her aches more than the shower ever could. He smelled of fresh air. She snuggled against him.
“Physically, yes.”
Morgan clicked off the set.
Clint sat on the sofa with her in his arms. “Tell me everything.” Repeating the events was difficult, but in the end it gave her a 130
different perspective.
He kissed the top of her head. “My vote is Harley.” Morgan went through his logic why it couldn’t be.
She was no closer to coming up with a suspect than before. “Once Travis installs the security system, I’ll feel safer.” Morgan picked up her feet and massaged them. “I asked him to put a dead bolt on the door leading upstairs to your two stories.” Between Morgan’s ministrations and Clint’s warm chest, the wine began to relax her.
When she woke, she was in Morgan’s bed, but he wasn’t there.
Light streamed in through the gap in the closed curtains. Shit. She’d overslept.
While the men might complain about her returning so soon, she needed to be at her studio to oversee the work. Perhaps the intruder would stop by to see his handiwork. At least that was what always happened in those crime shows.
The aroma of coffee and bacon seeped under the closed door. She got up and followed her nose. Both men were in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Clint said.
He was too damned cheery. “Morning.”
Morgan scooped some scrambled eggs onto a plate and carried it over to the table. “Breakfast is served.” Clint poured her a cup of coffee. “Cream or sugar?”
“Both.” She should stop with adding so much sugary stuff, but right now she needed all the help she could get.
“Aren’t you two eating?”
“We already have.”
Clint leaned over and kissed her. “I’ve got to get back to Casper.” She sucked in a breath. “You drove over two hours just to see if I was okay?” No one had ever been that nice.
“Only for you, darlin’.” He kissed her good-bye and headed out.
Her cell rang. The noise came from the living room. She got up and rushed to catch the call. It was her father.
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“Hey, Dad.”
“Just wanted to see if you were okay.”
“Yes. What did you hear?”
“Harley called me.” She knew they went back a long ways. “He said your place got broken into.”
The whole town probably knew about it since her building sat on the main street of town. “Someone broke the window and slashed some paintings.”
“Did the in
truder harm you?”
“No. He never came upstairs. I think someone scared him away.” She didn’t know if it was a man, a woman, or a bunch of kids up to no good.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” There was a loud noise in the background.
“Hey, I need to go, but call me if you want to.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
The fact some paintings got ruined didn’t seem to faze him, but maybe he did only care that she wasn’t injured. The fact he’d called at all was nice. She returned to the table and ate half of the eggs, but her appetite was gone. “I’m going to change.” She stepped back into the bedroom and pulled out all of her clothes. Nothing matched her mood. Since she had to wear something, she kept on the T-shirt and dragged on a pair of jeans. The window might get replaced today, but probably not the entire security system.
She closed her suitcase and left it on the bed.
She returned to the kitchen. “I’m sure you have a lot of ranch work to do, but could you either lend me a car or drive me to my studio?”
“I think you should stay here another day, or at least until Travis calls and says everything is cleaned up and ready to go.”
“No.”
He cocked a brow. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“You’ve heard the word before.” She was so not in the mood to argue with him.
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His cell rang. He glanced at the display. “It’s Travis. Maybe he’s done.”
Her spirit lifted.
“Yeah? You sure? I appreciate that. How’s Dakota’s place coming? Excellent.”
He disconnected and faced her. “I think we need to give Travis Easton a big tip. Not only did he get someone to come out today to install the front glass, but the security system will be up and running by tonight.”
She should be thrilled. If only the trauma from last night would go away. “Great. Then you don’t mind returning me to town.”
“Mind? Yes, but I will drive you back. If you want, you can leave your suitcase here in case you should find yourself in need of some company.” He winked.
Usually, his sexiness stirred her insides, but not today. Like a burned-out building, she only felt cold and dead inside. “Sure.”
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